airahcaz

This one's dear to my heart.
I hope it's loved and much as I loved him.







Fall, fragmented. Suspended in motion.
Haven't a clue where the rhythm is going.
This ship isn't sure if it's sinking or rowing.
A whirlpool of waves and I'm filled with emotion.
Broken.

Then times where the sun and the dustmites are rising.
The weight of the server turns up in its flow,
and lifts with it More Of Our DoS and our donts.
Those times that make change,
those times that erase,
bring a scent of the tail of the boot of the rest.

Fall, surrender. Suspended in motion.
Haven't a clue where the rhythm went stop.
They all know the reason this volt then came open.
A rift in the flow of the groove made it pop.
No point in waiting and wasting and moping.
Would you rather be wishing and praying and hoping?
And then there's the rest of the mob of the planet,
who breathe out the fire and strut like they own it.

His left behind wash in the face of my world,
is the reason those demons are so easily heard.
It was ruined alright, there's still remnants there:
the waste of the bang and a clip of his hair.

It was all that we got before something was taken,
when life gets upturned and you're told that you're faking.
Fake is the low of the sand in the glass.
The time running out when you're trying so hard.
All the wishing that's tried goes to hell when there's doubt,
but you know underneath that there IS no way out.

There is just this 'without' that keeps bellowing in,
from the roof and the pipes and the base of your chin.
Where the lump from the neck bring the drips from the eyes
that get stifled by one of the losers who hide.

And then all the bricks somehow lift themselves up,
to reveal where the base is so sickeningly tough.
Away with the stench for a moment or five,
and see where this pantomime seems so contrived.

Like a monkey on speed, overeager to DO.
To express and impress till its ready to spew.
There is really no cease to this windmill of red.
There's no chance to go back and just say apple-zed.

The flint will keep sparking and feeding the fire,
and there won't be a moment where he is not mine.

snow and board

So I'm in the snow in Vail, Colorado at the moment.
Hence the lack of posts.

Back in action later this month..

If there is anyone at all reading this, thanks! And it's YOU who I apologise to.

Later.

Iceberg

Two posts in one day.. wow!
I guess I thought the last one was a bit of a joke.
I like this one though. lots.
Whaddayareckon??




Tell me how long two separate
worlds can stay broken
from turning to one
when this end is so open.

It was when you don't
it'll be you can't force it
so for now this is ending
till later when more's said.

Good night angel out there
it won't be too long
who am I to say that
when I'm always wrong.

Who knows if one day
anything will then come
to the tip of the iceberg
were we become one.

lunch break

I had an angry day..
this is the outcome.




I am so not concerned with your blatant stupidity,
you try to be cute with your crude masculinity.
Your ego extends out through over your skin,
there is not but a pinhole to get that word in.

I heard you the first time untalented whore
did you ever consider I find you a bore?
Maybe everyone else lets you think that you're right
to avoid the possibility of starting a fight
with the fear you'll keep going till something explodes
and some of your ego might go up their nose.

Then forever they'll smell you - how shit would it be!
To be stuck with the stench every time that you sneeze.
I will stay here just trying to finish my job
with the only condition you shut your fat gob.
Your shit personality will always seep through
so until I can leave I will just ignore you.

ready freddy

The end is in sight
the bend in the night
where the slivers of mist
turn to heavenly light.

Open your eyes to the pit of despise
then the force of the rise
brings the weight of surprise.
The want to just stay,
make it all go away,
bring back the blinds
to make cease of the day.

Stop it in motion,
erupt an explosion,
all but contained
in the lifeless emotion.

Still like the wind,
dark like the sun,
closed like the doors
through which i can run.

Believe in the lost and the broke and the pain,
open the windows and let in the rain.
Cleanse from the pure, mark from the stained,
drift to the claim that we aren't all insane.

Cling to the thought that the work that is made
is believably sound and conceivably blamed.

My substance is clear
as the mud in a dam,
pristine as garbage
and solid as sand.

Where's the belief
i should share with the clan?
I should know it but don't,
and I can't see the plan.
Too many branches
and not enough roots,
the planter is crowded
by stunted brown shoots.

Come to a T-stop
and no more broad forks
where the chance of deduction
all simply deports.

Back to where it all started,
just lying in head,
wondering when the whole world
will wake up and be fred.

not there

to know that i'd rather be losing and falling
is straight away farther than two is appauling.
the waste in this place of unknowingly far
replaces the taste of a drink in a bar.
sucking me dry until wet comes to boil,
how far is the farthest one can be from soil?
how long is the longest a string can be strung?
how down can the up go to reach back to one?
when will i get there, up on the same hill
where once stood a man with a solid gold grill.
he spoke to the listeners and laid there a will
then he sold them the map to the place with the pill.
the one-in-all solve in the face of another;
reluctantly strong yet defacing my brother.
to think that it's over and forget the rest
would be recklessly choosing to omit regret.
regret is the function of being, of life,
and nothing comes close to the edge of THAT knife.
borderline lunacy losing the plot,
why are the others all there and i'm not?